A Misadventure Aboard the Surprise
by Wing Pikepaw
Summary: Well, here we are, finally-a misadventure about two of our most noble heroes, Jack Aubrey and Tom Pullings! Very funny, maybe a bit stupid, but hey, who really cares? Sit back, my lucky landlubbers, put yer feet on the keyboard, and enjoy!
1. Shipwrecked

There had been no time to think, no time to move. All Captain Jack Aubrey of the Royal Navy remembered was being swept away by the powerful current when his cabin exploded around him as a cannonball streaked through the _Surprise_'s woodwork. He lay on the beach, too tired to move or think, and let the rain pound him. He had fought the waves all night and had washed up here, where ever here was. A surprised shout caused him to jerk his head out of the wet sand.

Tom Pullings was jogging towards him. "Captain!" he called again. "Are you all right, sir?"

Jack somehow found the strength to sit upright. Wondering if he was hallucinating, he blinked several times, but his First Officer was still there. "Is that you, Tom?"

The man knelt beside him and helped him sit up. "Yes sir. Are you all right?"

Jack looked himself over. "I think so. Where the devil are we?"

Tom shrugged. "I'm not sure, sir. Somewhere off the coast of Brazil, I think."

Confusion swamped Jack's mind. "But why are we on land off the coast of Brazil? I thought I told you we wouldn't be putting in...."And then it all came back to him-the explosion and the cannonball. He sat up rigidly and grabbed Pullings' arm. "What happened?" he coughed, spewing the last of the seawater onto his soaked jacket.

Tom sighed. "I really don't know, sir. I'm sure we were attacked, but I was thrown overboard at the first explosion. I heard cannons in the fog, but it was too late to shout."

Jack lay back in the sand dejectedly. "Damn," he gasped. "I don't see how they possibly.....have you found anyone else?"

Pullings shook his head. "No. You're the first I've found. We should go and look together, if you're well enough, sir."

Jack managed a wry grin. "The day I can't look after my crew is when I'm dead," he said, and managed to stand with Tom's help. Together, they walked down the beach. Pullings glanced up at the sky. "We should get inside the forest, sir. This storm looks bad."

Jack nodded, and they walked into the deep jungle.


	2. A Foreboding Discovery

Jack couldn't stop yawning. "Maybe we should stop and rest," he suggested. Tom cast another worried glance at the dark and cloudy sky. "We ought to get farther inland in case it floods," he said doubtfully, surveying the thick, moist jungle around them.

Jack snorted. "A little water never hurt us, Tom, and a little more won't make a difference! Still, there's a little cave in the side of that hill up ahead so we won't get rained on."

They climbed the gradual incline of the hill up to a small cave. "I can take first watch," Jack said, stifling a yawn. Tom shook his head. "No, captain, you're too tired. I can do it. I'm fine." But Jack remained firm despite the argument and ended up taking the watch. They both were asleep within minutes.

The _Surprise_'s bow was lodged firmly in the reef that she had been pitched upon when a brief squall had caught her. _Actually_, reflected ship's surgeon Stephen Maturin, _it's a good thing the storm did catch us since it drove us away from the enemy ship._

However, they were badly beat up from both the storm and the attack, so the crew was hard at work refitting the _Surprise._ Stephen peered over the railing when he heard himself being hailed by Mr. Lamb, the ship's carpenter, who was in a rowboat. "Yes?" he called back.

The carpenter rowed closer and yelled, "We're going t'start cuttin' into the reef, sir! It's the only way to get 'er free!"

Stephen sighed sadly. He hated seeing any form of plants or animals destroyed, especially the beautiful coral reefs, but it had to be done. "Very well, Mr. Lamb. Any sign of the captain or Mr. Pullings?" he asked hopefully.

"No sir, afraid not. We'll keep looking, though!" Mr. Lamb answered and rowed back to the stern, which was in an awful state.

As he rowed off, Stephen slumped against the rail. This was disastrous-no captain or First Officer with a damaged vessel and an unknown enemy ship still out there somewhere. The crew was looking to fourteen-year-old Lieutenant Will Blakeney and Stephen as temporary captains, but they didn't have the nautical wisdom or experience of Jack Aubrey, more so in Steven's case. Will was the obvious choice, being a mature, cool-headed officer, even if he was a bit young, and Stephen had been chosen out of respect, but they relied heavily on one another.

Stephen lowered himself over the bow and waded on top of the reef through knee-deep water to where Blakeney was giving orders to a midshipman. "Cut here-no, here, Mr. Johnson-until you can see the prow. Be careful, though."

The young officer looked up at Stephen and gave a surprised smile. "Hello, Mr. Maturin. Any news?" "No sign of the captain or Mr. Pullings, I'm afraid," Stephen said heavily.

Mr. Johnson stopped hacking at the reef and turned to Stephen. "Sir, Mr. Lamb said the Captain's hammock was untouched. There's a fair chance he may 'ave just been swept off, sir."

Full of renewed hope, Stephen replied, "Good. When we get off the reef, we can land and try to find him and Mr. Pullings."

Blakeney pulled out a small book of ocean currents and nodded to a swirl on the map, seeing as he couldn't point with his other hand because he didn't have one. "This is the closest one near where we were anchored. We can follow it and land-"his eyes tracked the line "-here."

Stephen took the book from him and perched his spectacles on the end of his nose. Suddenly, he went rigid, staring at the name of the island Blakeney had indicated.

"What is it, sir?" Mr. Johnson asked anxiously. "We better hope the captain and Mr. Pullings aren't on that island," Stephen said quietly. "It's a major French Naval port." He handed the book to Blakeney and climbed up the now, leaving a stunned silence behind him.


	3. Shipwrecked on an island with the French...

Jack wrapped his battered coat about him as another cold blast of wind howled through the cave. Tom sat back-to-back with him to try and conserve heat, but it wasn't working.

"What d-d-d-you suggest we do, s-s-s-sir?" Tom asked, his teeth chattering. Jack shifted slightly to give his First Officer more cover without him noticing and taking offense and replied, "We wait out the storm. It's just a tropical blow, not a hurricane." Even as he said this, the rain seemed to subside and the wind lessened.

Jack stiffened suddenly. He said very quietly, "Mr. Pullings, do you still have any weapons?"

Mystified, Tom replied, "Yes, a pair of pistols and my sword, but the powder's wet. Why?"

"Five people-natives, I think-out there with spears," Jack whispered. Pullings eased his feet beneath him so he was crouching and casually rested his hand on his sword hilt. "Orders?" he hissed, his brain already thinking strategically.

"Get outside. Climb the cliff above the cave," his captain murmured. Jack rose and inched towards the mouth of the cave, back pressed against the wall. With Pullings following him, he slipped outside and climbed easily up the slippery rock face, using his climbing abilities brought on by years of climbing the rigging of the _Surprise_.

About twenty feet off the ground, both men craned their heads around when they heard a strange hooting sound. The natives, painted, half-naked people with primitive spears, were following them up the cliff.

"Draw swords!" Jack called, unconsciously letting the plural slip. He and Tom both halted for a moment, placed their blades carefully between their teeth, and climbed faster. Tom made a muffled noise of disgust when he drooled on his sword by accident, but he ground his teeth down on the weapon and ignored it.

The natives were coming fast. They were expert climbers, and they grinned hungrily at the two men above them. Jack wondered with horror if their hungry expressions meant they were cannibals and tried to put the thought out of his mind.

The leading native, a stocky, strong-looking man, grabbed Pullings' ankle. He pulled his sword from his teeth, whipped around, and slashed the man across the hand. The man howled with pain and fury and instinctively jerked his hand away-and lost his balance. He plunged, screaming, and this seemed to infuriate the natives even more. They leapt like monkeys up the wall, but the top of the cliff was within Jack's reach. He pulled himself up and turned to help Tom.

His First Officer was surrounded by natives. They were clawing and hitting him, trying to throw him off the cliff, but Tom clung grimly to the rock with one hand and slashed blindly with his sword with the other. Jack threw himself to the ground and reached out a hand, yelling, "Come on, Mr. Pullings! Jump!" Tom elbowed a native out of the way and grabbed his captain's hand. He let go of the cliff and kicked hard, sending two more natives flying into space. The last one began climbing down at top speed.

Jack grabbed Tom's other hand and heaved him over the edge of the cliff. Pullings lay, gasping, on the cool stone. Jack stood shakily and glanced down over the edge. The last native was running off. He screamed in broken French over his shoulder, "_We meet again, English! We will! We have your friends! You no escape either!"_

Tom sat up and sheathed his sword, still breathing hard. "What did he say, sir? Did you hear?"

Jack nodded, scratched his head, and sat beside Tom. "Yes. He said that he has our friends and we won't escape him either. Well, he said _we _have your friends, meaning he probably lives in some sort of tribe."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Our friends? Do you think someone else in the crew was washed overboard? Well, the odds aren't so good; he probably meant some other white man who was shipwrecked here."

Jack looked grim. "I'm not so sure. I think it's likely that he _did_ mean one of the crew, because the only other whites around here would be French."

Tom shrugged. "So? They probably have captured a Frenchmen. Our crew are the only Englishmen in the area; it's more likely they captured someone else."

Shaking his head, Jack replied, "But didn't you hear? He was speaking French. He probably learned it from the other residents of the island, meaning that they're French. If I'm right, then this is probably the French Naval port. Whoever fired on us, assuming they are French, would be here to resupply. Without our ship and our crew, we're easy targets since he's gone off to warn the French."

Tom groaned. "Bloody heathen! I could've gotten him if he was just a bit closer!"

Jack looked at him sympathetically. "It's not your fault, Tom. We should get moving, so let's-"

Tom gritted his teeth angrily. "Damn, it is my fault, Jack! But let's get out of here-we can talk later."


	4. Stephen's New Species Goes Amok

Aboard the _Surprise_, things were not going well and tempers were running very high. The mizzen mast had just fallen yet _again _and the pumps were seeing constant service from several leaks that had sprung up during the night. Then again, leaks were always springing up, so it wasn't that big of a deal. However, the mast was. It had created a sizable hole in the deck and had nearly decapitated Stephen when he was walking by. The crew was hard at work finding wood on a small, peaceful island where they had stopped.

"Because," as an annoyed Stephen so charmingly put it, "we tried refitting at sea once and it's never happening again, and some nice peace and quiet is just the thing for us right now."

But was he right? All ready, some of the crew had gotten drunk on stolen rum and were in their tents recovering from hangovers and beatings. According to a recent headcount, five of the crew including Mr. Mowett were missing, much to Blakeney's distress.. Also, several of Stephen's journals had been washed overboard in the storm and at the moment he was having a cross between a heart attack and a major tantrum. He stormed around his tent, snarling and growling at his own stupidity for not putting them away.

Suddenly, a large beetle crawled across the canvas on the ceiling of the tent. Stephen gently detached it and held it up to the light, examining it with an expert's eye. He pulled one of his remaining journals towards him and began feverishly making notes while holding the beetle still with the other hand.

It was a nice bug, with shiny green wings and a pair of small pincers like horns. It nipped Stephen with these and he rubbed the spot absently, then went back to his work. But another one of the same beetles crawled across his sketch pad, so Stephen then had to compare their sizes and markings. He weighed them carefully and recorded that.

_Strange, _Stephen thought, _there seems to be a lot of these beetles tonight. Maybe they're nocturnal._ There were about ten of them, all crawling slowly around his tent. Suddenly, a scream from outside made Stephen drop his beetle.

"Yaaaaaaa! Owowowow! Get'em off me! Get'em off! Bloody insects-aaaaarrrrrgg!!!!!!"

Stephen raced outside to find several of the crew who were sitting by the stream literally covered in beetles. He was fascinated by this and immediately began taking notes, muttering to himself, "Amazing. They must be flesh eaters, or perhaps they're just attracted to human skin. I've never heard of this before!"

Blakeney ran past him, followed by several other men. As he passed Stephen, he cried, "Come on, doctor! Help us get them off!"

Stephen seemed to snap back to reality and mumbled, "Oh, right, of course." He began brushing the insects off the nearest man, who was unrecognizable from his cover of beetles. Suddenly, a large cloud seemed to burst out of the bushes, buzzing ominously. Stephen stared at it and suddenly realized what it was-more beetles. "Run!" he yelled, but it was too late. The entire crew was fallen upon, including Stephen. Many men ran screaming for the water in hopes of drowning the insects, but others blundered blindly about that camp, swatting at themselves.

Somehow, Blakeney managed to stay calm through all of this. He called, "Everyone in the water. Swim back to the ship or stay in the shallows!" Everyone ran for it, cursing and yelping.

Several hours later, the _Surprise_'s very bedraggled crew stumbled out of the water, moaning and covered in swollen bites. Stephen looked at the long line in front of the doctor's tent with the eye that wasn't swollen shut and called, "These are simple stings. Just slap some mud on them-it's the best thing for them."

Once everyone was covered in mud to his satisfaction, Stephen collapsed on his hammock and, after picking up a dead bug to save, he fell fast asleep. However, no one actually got any sleep but Stephen since his nose was swollen and he snored. Very loudly too, I might add.


	5. Captured!

Jack and Tom were taken by surprise. They had been napping in a small, peaceful clearing with a brook running through it, but crashes in the bushes woke them with a start. Jack barely had time to reach for his sword before it was wrenched violently from his hand by someone behind him. He dove forward, out of the way, just as his own blade bit into the patch of moss where he had been sitting.

Tom was knocked unconscious by a club at the same time. He slumped forward and hit the back of Jack's knees, tripping him. Jack stumbled and was knocked out as well.

The cannibal tribe leader grinned savagely as he surveyed the two prisoners. He prodded Tom's limp form with his spear butt and said to his fellows in their native tongue, "_This one wears the uniform of the angry one back at the camp. The other one here must be their chief."_

A younger, slightly stupid cannibal ran forward, saying, "_With the other ones, they will make good eating, chief! Let me kill the lesser one, he killed my brother Pakan at the cliff."_

His leader jabbed the spear at him irritably. "_Idiot! The only one we eat is you if you lay hands on them. The Frenchmen will pay us well. This one-"_he nodded at Jack "_-is probably an enemy of theirs, a chieftain too."_

The younger one, whose name was Jimjara, backed up, knowing his leader would follow up on his threat if he touched the prisoners, but he silently swore vengeance for his brother.

Jack, who had quick powers of recovery, was already starting to come around. The leader of the cannibals made no move to stop him as he stood shakily and glared at them. He said in passable French, "_Let us go. We have no quarrel with you."_

The chieftain smiled and said in the same language, "_No, but the Frenchmen do. I have heard of you, Jacques Aubrey. Don't look so surprised; I know who you are. I think the French will pay heavily to have you, and your First Officer Thomas Pullings too. And of course, part of your crew, including William Mowett. We have them all, _Capitaine _Aubrey. And now we have you."_

Jack paled and opened his mouth to reply, but the Jimjara ran up behind him and knocked him out again. The leader nodded approvingly at him and said, "_Tie these two up and take them back to the camp. They can stay with the other prisoners."_

The cannibals did as they were told and left the deceptively calm clearing, thoughts of food on the mind despite their chieftain's warning.


	6. A Kind of Obvious Warning

Blakeney woke up on the floor of his tent. He could barely move from the mud caked all over him. With much grinding and gnashing of teeth, he managed to work his arm free and haul himself to his feet with the help of a tent pole. Another midshipman-Blakeney couldn't tell who-was hobbling down to the beach. Blakeney followed.

As soon as he hit the water, the mud began to dissolve in great clouds all around him. He moved around to try and wash his coat off, but it was pretty much ruined. With a mental sigh-seeing as he was underwater-Blakeney winced when he imagined how he would look. Not exactly like a captain.

However, no one seemed to mind. They were all following Blakeney's example and having a good time throwing the wet mud at each other. Blakeney suppressed a grin and peeled a patch of mud off his shoulder.

Stephen, once again, was taking notes on various birds on the shore who were too fascinated with the idiotic humans in the water to be bothered by him. He was as covered in as much mud as everyone else, but he didn't seem to notice.

Suddenly, there was a loud growling and snarling noise from the bushes. A big, spotted cat emerged and stood there, growling ferociously at Stephen, who immediately turned his attention to it. "Ah, a jaguar! _Panthera onca_! Amazing! They usually don't come this close to the coast!"

Blakeney began wading slowly towards his pistol on the shore, seeing as he noticed that the jaguar had teeth and Stephen didn't. However, as he got closer, he realized that the jaguar _was_ trying to attack Stephen, but was being held back somehow. Then, he spotted the camouflaged cannibal holding the end of the vine leash attached to the jaguar's neck-who was letting go of it.

Stephen took a step back and tripped, and the jaguar landed on top of him. Killick, the captain's servant, dove for his pistol on the beach, but an arrow hissed out of the jungle and embedded itself in the sand beside it. The message was clear-fight and die.

But Blakeney was not about to let Stephen get savaged by the jaguar. He pretended to fall and let a wave wash him up on the shore. He grabbed his pistol, cocked it, and shot the jaguar in the hind leg. The animal roared with pain and fled back into the jungle.

The cannibal tribe burst from the jungle in full force, screaming that odd hooting noise Jack and Pullings had heard in the cave before they had climbed the cliff. Blakeney saw at once that the _Surprise_'s crew was vastly outnumbered and called a retreat.

Everyone leapt into the small rowboats they had brought ashore. Stephen came sprinting out of his tent clutching his journals and surgeon's kit with only a few mild scratches to show for his fight with the jaguar. As he clambered into the last boat and helped push it off, the cannibals jumped into dugout canoes hidden under a sand dune and came after them, firing arrows and throwing spears.

Blakeney gulped and called, "Fire at will! Make every shot count! Keep rowing, oarsmen, don't shoot!"

He turned and hailed the _Surprise._ "Ahoy the _Surprise_! Marines, open fire!"

The captain of the marines bawled orders and soon, musket balls were whizzing over the longboats and sending cannibals toppling out of their canoes. But the tribe didn't turn around until they saw cannonballs being rammed into the cannons on the ship. With many roars of frustration, they turned around and paddled back to land. Blakeney just managed to hear the same cannibal that had yelled at Jack and Mr. Pullings the day before scream, rather stupidly, "We have your captain and his friend! They will not survive for this!" Then, the cannibal leader whacked him over the head and he shut up.

Blakeney gave the signal to cease fire and wiped his brow with a trembling hand. He gave a shaky smile and Stephen immediately started a cheer: "Three cheers for Captain Blakeney!"

Three hearty "Huzzahs!" echoed over the ocean. Blakeney smiled at Stephen with thanks and called, "Everyone, back to the _Surprise_! One of those natives said they have the captain and Mr. Pullings! We have some planning to do!"


	7. Answers

Jack opened his eyes. He had a pounding headache from two lumps on his head and seemed to be in a sort of makeshift cage.

"Captain? Are you all right?" came a voice.

Jack was about to say, "Fine, Mr. Pullings, and you?" but he suddenly realized that the voice was not that of his First Officer.

He turned around and gasped. "Mr. Mowett! What in blazes are you doing here?"

Mowett was beaming despite several gashes on his arms and face and a black eye. "Same as you, sir, I fell overboard and washed up here with four other men from the _Surprise._ That bloody cannibal tribe captured us before we got four paces down the beach. But we never hoped that'd you and Mr. Pullings would be here too, sir!"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Well, we didn't exactly come to rescue you, seeing as we're prisoners too."

Mowett shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "But still, you'll be able to get us out, sir. This tribe respects authority, and if you were to say that you were a very powerful person where you come from, they would most likely let you go."

Jack gave a grim smile. "Brilliant, Mr. Mowett, but then again they already do know who I am. I mean my name and rank, and the name of my ship. They also know how to speak French, and apparently are going to give us over to the French, who are on the other side of the island."

"But we're not going to let them, sir," said a weak voice from one side of the cage. Jack turned around to see Mr. Pullings propped up against the bars.

"Tom! Are you all right?" he asked as he crawled over to his First Officer.

Pullings shrugged. "I think so, sir. My head hurts somethin' awful, though, but I'll be all right. Where are we?"

Jack and Mowett jointly explained what had occurred and where they were now. Suddenly, a thought struck Jack. "You said you were here with four other men, Mr. Mowett. Where are they now?"

Mowett sighed. "Well, they haven't been eaten by cannibals, if that's what you mean, but the leader of the tribe, nasty fellow by the name of Karrak, is threatening to do so if I attempt to escape. They're on the other side of camp."

"Who are they?"

"Er, that new midshipman, Mr. Parker, and four other sailors, I don't know their names," Mowett said.

Jack put his head in his hands. "This is an absolute disaster. How could I have been so stupid?"

Mr. Pullings attempted to comfort his captain. "It's not your fault, sir, it was an accident. No one can predict someone falling overboard, or an enemy attacking when there's not supposed to be anyone in the area."

Mowett looked thoughtfully. "So that's what it was-an attack. I thought I heard cannons before I fell overboard. Maybe it was the French ship that we're going to be prisoners of."

"Well, they didn't say it was a French ship, Mowett," observed Tom. "It might be a colony we didn't hear of-"

But he was cut off as a cannibal (Jimjara) walked up, followed by several others. Pullings immediately shut up and glared at him, as did Mowett and Jack. Jimjara leered at them and said to Jack in bad French, "_We take you now to Frenchmen, you be sorry!_"

They tied the three men together by their hands on a long vine and nodded up at the mountain. "_That way_."


	8. Teaching Cannibals to Behave

Author's Note

You may have noticed a pattern of me switching back and forth between the _Surprise_ and Jack and Tom, but I couldn't resist this time, I have to do Jack and Tom again! Sorry, but it must be done! (Oh, it doesn't matter, get over it!) Here goes:

Jack and Pullings soon found out why Mowett was covered in injuries. Every stumble, every misstep, every little thing that Jimjara decided they did wrong was punished by a blow. Jack, who was seething, didn't care.

Jimjara tripped for the fifth time as Jack "accidentally" jerked on the vine rope too hard, pulling him backwards. The enraged cannibal spun around and punched Jack hard on the nose, causing it to bleed. "_Stop it!_" he screamed. "_Stop or I kill!_"

Jack was thoroughly enjoying himself. "_I don't think your leader would like that, do you? I think he might just serve you up with my midshipman and crewsman if you kill me or my friends."_

Jimjara was nearly foaming at the mouth. "_Shut up! Shut mouth, English, or I kill them!"_ He nodded to the two other cannibals, clearing wanting them to threaten Pullings and Mowett, but they backed off uneasily, muttering, "_We kill them, Karrak eat us alive. Ignore him, Jimjara."_

Jimjara roared in their native tongue at them for a few minutes and stalked off, yanking on the rope. Jack, Tom, and Mowett followed. Mowett muttered to Pullings, "Is the captain mad? What is he doing, provoking that hothead?"

Pullings chuckled under his breath. "What he does best-insultin' him, firing him up. If that idiot leading us gets so distracted by the captain, we might get a chance to escape. In the meantime, they can't kill us 'cause their leader would punish them for doing it."

Mowett nodded knowingly and purposefully tripped their rearguard, a particularly dim-witted cannibal known simply as Dok. Dok glared at the _Surprise_'s first lieutenant as he smiled innocently and said in English, which Dok couldn't understand, "Sorry for that, you stupid excuse for a half-dead mud brained midshipman, an' sorry for the beating you're going to get, you thick-as-a-rock landlubber cannibal scum!"

Of course, there was a lot more colorful language than that, Mowett being a sailor, but of course, I'm not going to print that, so use your imagination. But see, none of the cannibals understood English, so Mowett could basically get away with anything he wanted to say.

Pullings snickered, earning a prod with a spear butt from the other guard, Nuraren, who soon found himself sliding backwards down the hill because he tripped on the edge of the vine rope, which had been so conveniently been placed right where he was about to step. Jimjara was screaming with anger. He hauled on the end of the vine, dragging Jack, Pullings, and Mowett behind him to the top of the mountain. On the other side, just down in the valley, lay the French ship.

She was moored in a small lagoon and looked to have about forty-eight guns. Jimjara half dragged, half kicked the three down the incline. Suddenly, before the French spotted him, Jack leapt on Jimjara, stunned him, and shoved him into the bushes. Dok opened his mouth to yell for help, but Pullings and Mowett jumped on him and pummeled him into unconsciousness.

They were trying to get the vine rope off (which was a lot tougher than it seemed) when they heard a voice speaking in heavily accented English behind them. Jack spun around, hand reaching automatically for the sword he didn't have.

A French officer stood there holding a pistol. He drawled, "Huh, I do not think you get too far. I watched you from d'shore, you English idiots."

Jack pretended to look confused and said in French, "_We are not English, we were captured by the natives looking for the ship! We were sent by the Emperor to speak with you."_

The Frenchman laughed. "I do not think I believe that, _oui_?"

"_Why is that_?" Jack challenged, still keeping up the pretense.

Pullings gave a loud, fake cough. Jack looked around at him. He casually brushed his right shoulder, coughed again, and glared pointedly at Jack, who for the first time noticed his epaulette of a post captain in the British Navy. "Oh..." he said, rather stupidly.

"Come on, _Capitaine._ I think we would like to speak with you," the Frenchmen said. He motioned with his pistol. "After you."


	9. The Battle

It was getting dark. Blakeney peered into the gloom of the jungle and patted the hilt of his sword nervously. Howard the Marine came up behind him and whispered, "We're in position, sir. Orders?"

Blakeney jumped, surprised, and murmured, "Flank the lead group on the starbo-er, I mean, the right. Don't shoot until you're told to by myself or the Doctor. Stay as quiet as you can."

Howard saluted hastily and tip-toed back into the darkness. They were on the edge of the cannibal camp, so silence was essential. The tribe's cook fires (on which was cooking some meat that Blakeney desperately hoped was not human) were burning low, and they had no guards posted. It seemed easy enough.

Blakeney looked over his command, which consisted of Stephen, Killick, and ten other members of the crew, and signaled for them to advance. Crouched low, they silently moved forward stealthily. Blakeney could hear the soft footfalls of the other groups, one of which was the Marines, and the other was the rest of the crew.

They poured through the village, searching for any sign of their captain or Mr. Pullings. Stephen nearly leapt out of his skin when someone loudly whispered his name. "Doctor Maturin, sir! Over here!"

The young midshipman, Mr. Parker, and four other crewmen, cowered in a small, makeshift cage between two huts. Stephen broke off from the rest of the group and knelt by the cage. He pulled out a small dirk and began sawing feverishly at the tough vine that held the door shut while Mr. Parker (very quietly) wept with relief, sobbing out his story.

"Oh, thank you for coming, sir, they were going to eat us if Mr. Mowett escaped, and then there was some talk of the captain being here, and Joe here-" he motioned to a man who was assisting Stephen in loosening the vine"-tried to get out an' got beaten for it, and-"

Stephen shushed him and growled under his breath, "Yes, that's all very well, Mr. Parker, but where's Mr. Mowett and the captain? Is Mr. Pullings here too?"

Mr. Parker said, "Mr. Mowett is on the other side of camp, I think, and I only heard a rumor that the captain...." His voice broke off and he paled, staring at something behind Stephen, who spun around-and grunted with pain as a spear took him through the shoulder.

Karrak, the fearsome leader of the cannibals, stood there. He was painted for war, with red stripes running down his torso. He held a bundle of small spears and was aiming another at Stephen, who rolled away and, figuring the game was up, roared, "Marines, fire!"

Howard heard the cry and twisted around from where he had been searching. He quickly spotted Karrak standing over Stephen and shot hastily, nicking Karrak's arm. The cannibal howled, alerting his tribe, who crawled out of their huts wielding spears, bow and arrows, and, most alarmingly, swords and muskets, which, judging by the fact that bullets were flying accurately at the Marines, they knew how to use.

Blakeney, seeing this, swore angrily and called, "Fire at will, men!" The _Surprise_'s crew shot enthusiastically at the cannibals, who charged regardless of this. Everyone drew their blades and engaged in combat with the tribe of cannibals. Blakeney stood over Stephen, who was bleeding profusely from the spear wound in his shoulder, and fought off all comers, a red glint in his eye.

One very stupid cannibal came up grinning. He knew a bit of English and said, "Soon you lose other arm too!"

Blakeney killed him with a savage thrust of his sword, roaring, "You think so, eh? Try me, then!"

Stephen watched the young man above him defend himself and his comrade. He realized with annoyance that he was about to become unconscious from blood loss, but his last thought before darkness took him was, "That boy is officer material, I'd say...."

hmm, they're all stupid, aren't they?


	10. How to Outwit the French

Jack, Mowett, and Pullings stood on the deck of the French ship, the _Caniche. _The captain, a stockily built man named Pierre Cym, paced in front of them.

"What is your name?" he asked suddenly, not looking up.

Jack remained silent. Mowett and Pullings followed his example. Thoughts whirled through Jack's head as he silently took in the weapons, the crew, the build of the ship.

"I asked you a question," said Cym. "Answer me, please. And don't even try to pretend you're French, it's obvious you're not."

"James Wray," lied Jack. "These are my lieutenants, William Allen and John Blakeney. We've been marooned here ever since we were shipwrecked while escorting a merchant vessel."

Captain Cym raised his eyebrows. "Oh, _oui_? I did not think post captains escorted merchants."

Jack shrugged. "They were carrying important cargo, I suppose. I wasn't told."

"What was the name of your vessel?"

"The _Blackwater_," Jack said, using the name of a ship he had been promised (and never received) years ago.

"Ah," the captain said. "A fine ship. When did you say you were marooned?"

"About a month ago," Jack answered.

"Then you must not have the same _Blackwater_," Cym said slyly. "We captured it a year ago. It now is called the _Jean-Pierre_ and is the pride of our Navy. So which ship did you have, _monsieur_?"

"Ah....." Jack thought hard and fast, trying to think of a good excuse. "We had the second _Blackwater_," he said, a bit lamely. "Another one was named for the one that was captured, about a month after the original _Blackwater _was captured."

Captain Cym stared at him with eyebrows raised, politely incredulous. "Oh, _oui_? I was not aware of it. Anyways, where are my manners? Enough talk. Please, come in to my cabin and sit down. We can talk in there."

Two big, burly-looking men were already making their way over to the cabin in question. Mowett glanced worriedly at Pullings and hesitantly moved forward-and bumped into Jack, who hadn't moved.

"What is it, sir?" Mowett hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Jack gave a small nod to a spot around the bend, clearing not wanting anyone to notice. Mowett and Pullings glanced casually in that direction and grinned. The _Surprise _was coming around the bend.

The French lookout spotted her seconds later. "English ship at eleven o'clock off the port bow, _capitaine_!"

The _Surprise_'s cannons spit fire, and cannonballs flew over the water and hit the_ Caniche _just above the waterline. A warning.

"Shoot those three if they try to escape!" screamed the captain, who was now purple with rage. The burly men turned around and leapt for the three officers, who all backed off to the railing.

"What now, sir?" Mowett cried.

"Jump!" Jack bellowed, and threw himself over the side. He began swimming strongly for his ship.

Pullings and Mowett, who were not excellent swimmers, hesitated, each grabbed a splintered chunk of the_ Caniche_'s railing, and followed their captain.

Jack felt victory coursing through him as he swam. He dove deep with exhilaration and bumped into something. Surprised, he opened his eyes underwater-and stared with horror at the shark's open jaws before him.


	11. The Final Battle

The battle was on! As the _Surprise_ drew closer to the blundering _Caniche,_ cannons were abandoned for boarding pikes, grapples, swords, and guns. Blakeney, eager for another fight, brandished a large, expensive looking sword which just happened to be outside the captain's cabin.

Killick grumbled as he went by, knowing full well that Blakeney was using the captain's sword and had "borrowed" it from his cabin. Killick decided to let it go and picked up a grappling hook.

Bullets ripped through sails, wood, and flesh. Stephen was below, a clean bandage on his shoulder, already receiving patients. Mr. Parker, who had tried to leap dramatically over to the other ship's deck, had received a concussion when the hilt of a sword crashed down on his head. He was unconscious, but had a strange, triumphant grin on his face nonetheless.

It was pandemonium on the decks of the two ships. Blakeney was already below in the French ship and was battling the gun crew with half of the _Surprise_'s crew. He felt boxed in from all sides as battles raged around him, weapons flashing.

Blakeney parried a blow dealt at him by a young-looking officer wearing a pitying sneer. The Frenchman kicked Blakeney viciously in the gut, flooring him, but several Surprises leapt on him, punching and kicking where their weapons wouldn't reach.

"Stand aside!" Blakeney yelled, and they reluctantly rejoined the rest of the battle. The officer stood up, much worse for the wear, now wearing an ugly expression. He lashed out with his sword, but Blakeney parried it, stepped closer, and ran the man through.

He turned, still trying to get used to the idea that he had just killed someone, and helped Mr. Lamb fight off two French midshipmen.

Suddenly, someone (Blakeney couldn't see who in the smoke from the cannons) shouted from the top of the hatch, "Stop! Their captain surrendered! Mr. Blakeney, could y'please come up here?"

Blakeney, flushed with victory, bounded up the steps to face the French captain. He was standing, sword at his feet, with an expression to rival the other French officer's.

"I hereby surrender to you. That officer you killed below was my son," he muttered. "I have nothing left to fight for." He handed his sword hilt-first to Blakeney. Blakeney accepted it, feeling guilty, and nodded coolly. "Thank you, captain. I am sorry for your loss."

He strode off, back to the _Surprise, _and went below to where Stephen was caring for his patients.

"Doctor, you will be in charge of escorting the French ship back to London. You will be accompanied by half the crew. No arguments," he added.

Stephen looked as though he was about to say something, then nodded. "Yes, sir. Congratulations, by the way."

Blakeney gave a small smile. "Thank you. Please excuse me for a moment," he said.

He stepped back on deck and told his crew that Stephen would be going with the French ship back to London. There were many raised eyebrows at that, but nothing else was said. Everyone was too exhilarated by the victory.

"Well, I suppose that's all-"Blakeney began uncertainly.

"That bloody well isn't all!" said Killick indignantly. "What about the captain and Mr. Pullings?"

Blakeney wanted to hit himself on the head. _Of course, you idiot!_ he raged to himself. When he was under control, he said, "Weren't they aboard the ship?"

Blank looks greeted this question. Feeling anxious now, Blakeney commanded, "Bring me their captain again."

The hassled looking captain, who was listening from the other deck, called, "They jumped overboard when they saw your ship. I do not know where they are now."

Blakeney scanned the water, searching for signs of a swimmer. Nothing. "All hands in the rigging!" he called. There was a rush for the rigging, and soon the entire crew was straining their eyes over the ocean. There was silence for a few agonizing minutes, then someone cried, "There! Off the port bow! There they are!"

Everyone turned to look that way. Pullings and Mowett were floating on pieces of driftwood a good ways away, and seemed to be looking, horrorstruck, at something in the water.

Suddenly, Jack appeared, pursued by a shark, its mouth wide open....


	12. Going Home

_Note-Well, I better explain myself. What goes on in this chapter was, um....well, okay, my friend Itha Arrowland, another great fan-fiction author, and I got together and totally cracked up while making up a plot for a Master and Commander story. _

_This may explain the "shark with the seaweed." It was based on Itha's dog, I really don't know why, but we thought that up. For all you science geeks (including Itha) I _know_ sharks really don't play fetch with seaweed, thank you. I'm not as stupid as I might sound. The rest...well, let's just say Itha and I spent some time on it. I'll post the original notes I took, too. _

_So, yes, I do also know this chapter is whacked, odd, and totally hysterical-well, maybe not so hysterical..._

_Jack-It's funny enough._

_Me-Well, I like criticizing myself._

_Jack-Do I care?_

_Me (fuming)-I should think so! I dedicated the story to you, after all!_

_Jack-Oh? You didn't have the decency to say so._

_Me-Fine, I say so now._

_Jack-That's not good enough._

_Me-Shut up, you spoiled baby, and take what you can get._

_Jack-Don't they say that in _Pirates of the Caribbean? _I resent that._

_Me-SHUT UP!_

_Jack-Yessir. _.....................................................................................

Jack was swimming for his life. Normally, he didn't mind the odd shark, but this one was coming right at him, mouth wide open. It butted his feet, and he kicked it hard, but it kept coming.

Suddenly, the mouth was right before his eyes. Jack closed them and waited to die.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And opened his eyes.

The shark was still there, mouth open. It glared at him and flicked something onto his head. Jack removed it and stared at it. It was a ball of twisted, tangled kelp, heavily marked by shark bites.

The shark was staring at Jack expectantly, almost. It nudged the kelp and swam off a ways, still staring at Jack. Jack, incredulous, though it was acting like a dog-of course! It seemed like it wanted Jack to throw the ball to play fetch, just like a dog. Jack knew that this would be the most dangerous game of fetch he'd ever played, but he had to.

He trod water with no hands and threw the kelp as far as he could. It landed with a splash and, being so waterlogged, sunk like a stone. In a flash, the shark had dived after it. Pullings and Mowett had caught up with Jack by now, and they kicked out for the ship as fast as possible. Jack was swimming with his face in the water, but stopped when he bumped into something.

_Not another shark!_ Jack thought desperately. He looked up, and there before him, holding a large spear, was Jimjara in a canoe. The cannibal was sporting a large bump on his forehead where Jack had knocked him out and didn't look happy to see him at all.

He raised the spear, snarling, "_Now you will pay, you foolish worm!"_

Suddenly, the water exploded beside Jimjara's canoe. For a wild second, Jack thought it was cannon fire, but it was the shark, seaweed clenched tightly between its huge jaws! Its enormous body dropped on the canoe, splitting it in half, and Jimjara screeched wildly for a second before being swallowed.

The shark disappeared. Jack signaled frantically to Mowett and Pullings, calling, "Quick! There's blood in the water! It'll be after us if you don't hurry!"

He was beside the _Surprise_ now, and several ropes dropped down. Jack grabbed the nearest and flew up the side, pulled by willing hands. Blakeney was instantly beside him with Stephen approaching at a run. "Are you all right, sir?" Blakeney asked anxiously.

"Fine, Blakeney, fine," Jack said impatiently. "Fetch me a glass, will you?"

Six telescopes were offered at once by various people. Jack took one and watched Pullings and Mowett, who were paddling for their lives. They looked like they had been shot from a cannon they were going so fast.

Several ropes were dangling over the side, ready for the two officers to grab. Jack gulped when he saw a couple fins following them with deadly purpose.

"All hands to the guns!" Jack bellowed. Everyone rushed belowdecks and began loading the cannons. Jack gave the order to fire at will at the sharks.

As soon as they saw cannonballs flying in their direction, Mowett and Pullings ducked down in the water. Stephen, who knew this kind of shark, shouted, "Keep swimming, the both of you! Don't stop! Just stay low!"

They followed his instructions and were soon aboard. Jack came bounding up to greet them, all smiles. It was only then that he noticed the French ship alongside them.

Blakeney stepped forward, pushed by the other midshipman. He handed Jack the French captain's sword ceremoniously. "Sir, I surrender to you the symbol of that ship's command," he said solemnly.

Jack took the weapon without looking at it and stood tall, facing Blakeney. "I thank you for what you've done, William Blakeney, and the Doctor too. You have proved yourselves very capable and trustworthy men," he replied. "To honor this, I would like to promote you, Blakeney, to the position of second lieutenant."

Blakeney's eyes widened. "Thank you so much, sir!" he gushed. "I'm honored, really, I am!" He caught a stern look from Mowett and hastily corrected himself. "Er, I mean, thank you for this honor, sir. I really appreciate it, and I will do my best in my new position."

Jack smiled. "I'm sure you will, Blakeney. Now, let's go home, shall we?"

Stephen looked up at the tropical sky thoughtfully. "Yes, let's go home," he murmured to himself.

THE END

_I know, I know, I didn't want it to end either! Well, I suppose it had to, but don't worry, sequel's coming up! I want to work on my Redwall story for a bit, but I am most definitely making a sequel! Thank you all for your patience and kind reviews. I had a great time with this story, and I can't wait to do the next one. _


	13. Original Notes

_Here are the original notes for _A Misadventure Aboard the Surprise_ that my friend Itha Arrowland and I created together. It doesn't exactly follow the story since I changed it to make it more realistic, but it's pretty funny and interesting to read. Check it out!_

-Mr. Pullings and Captain Aubrey marooned in shipwreck

-Mr. Pullings and Jack climb cliff are attacked by cannibals

-Mr. Pullings and Jack row away, still pursued by cannibals

-Mr. Pullings and Jack hail French ship.

-Jack pretends to be French and Mr. Pullings is mute

-Captain French dude tests them to see if it's true

-Captain French dude falls over at cannon shot.

-Surprise comes and rescues them.

Captain Jack always says "Quick Mr. Pullings!"

Mr. Pullings always says, "Yep."


End file.
